


making pasta together is sexier than making pizza

by lovevalley45



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Date Night, Established Relationship, F/M, cooking together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-19 10:01:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22009192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovevalley45/pseuds/lovevalley45
Summary: Nate and Zari try a little something different for date night.
Relationships: Nate Heywood/Zari Tomaz
Comments: 3
Kudos: 37





	making pasta together is sexier than making pizza

**Author's Note:**

> so i watched 'desperately seeking santa' and wanted to make a point. that's the entire motive of this fic ksjdfgjf

Date nights for Nate and Zari were rarely fancy affairs. Some nights, they’d order Chinese food and stay in with a plethora of Netflix choices, or challenge each other to video games until one of them pulled a muscle in their thumbs. Other nights, they’d go out to some restaurant Mona or Ava recommended, followed up by a classic movie showing at The Pinnacle theatre.

But sometimes, just sometimes, they managed to surprise each other.

Zari had been looking forward to going over to his apartment all day. If she said it was because she missed him, it was sweeter than saying that she wanted to get away from the Legends. She’d worn one of her flannels over a black shirt with black jeans, a decision she would soon regret.

When Nate opened the door, the first thing she noticed was the spot of flour on his nose. There was more flour than that on him, though, which made her realize this was not one of their usual Netflix and chill nights.

“Are you baking something?” she asked, reaching up to wipe away the flour on his nose.

He looked at his hands, still covered in flour, and smiled. “I was going to surprise you with dinner,” Nate said.

“I didn’t know you could cook,” Zari replied as he let her in. Sure enough, in his tiny kitchen, she spotted a messy lump of dough on the counter. That explained the flour, she thought. 

“Just another one of my secret talents,” he teased, winking. “But… since you’re here earlier, I guess I’ll put you to work.”

“And here I was thinking I could just watch you in action,” she said, kicking off her shoes.

“Come on, roll up your sleeves.” He took one of her hands and pulled her behind the counter. As many times as she’d come over to his place, she hadn’t realized how small his kitchen was until that moment.

Zari rolled up the sleeves of her flannel up to her elbows. “Guess I should take my totem off, too?”

“Unless you want to try to get flour out of all that fancy detailing, it probably wouldn’t be the worst idea,” Nate told her. 

She took the totem off, carefully slipping it into the chest pocket of her flannel. “Okay, Chef Boyadee, what do you want me to do?”

Nate guided her to the lump of dough, coming up behind her. “Just knead the dough like this.” He pressed the heel of his hand into the dough, then brought it back in. After a few repetitions, he took one of her hands and guided it to the lump. “Now you try.”

It was easier than she thought it be, even if the dough was already starting to get a little firm. Zari repeated the motions - roll, fold back, reshape, roll, fold back, reshape. Occasionally, he took over, scooping a little bit of flour onto it. 

A part of her knew that she probably could have done it without him right over her shoulder, but he was warm against her back. It felt like forever since they’d gotten to be this close, even if in reality it had only been a few days. “So do we just knead until our arms hurt? Because I think I’m getting there.”

“Let’s see.” He poked it, but nothing happened. “When it springs back, it’s ready.”

“Cool.” Zari started to knead again, working more flour into the dough. “I didn’t know you were a secret pasta aficionado, Heywood.”

Nate chuckled, drumming his fingers on the counter next to her. He didn’t step away from his spot behind her, his chest pressed against her shoulders. “I went on a trip around Europe after my semester at Oxford, spent a few weeks in Italy. While I was there, I met this girl who was  _ molto bello _ .

“Oh, so I’m learning the pasta secrets of your Italian hookup,” she said.

“No. Her grandmother taught me to make pasta. Hers was a lot better than mine, but- I did learn a lot of Italian.”

“Well-” Zari paused her kneading, turning to look at him. “Flex some Italian on me.”

He grinned, meeting her eyes. “ _ Nei tuoi occhi c’è il cielo _ .”

She smiled back. “Sap.”

Nate picked up the dough again, continuing to knead it. “What? Italian is the language of love!”

“I thought  _ French _ was the language of love,” Zari replied.

“Have you heard anyone speak French?  _ Oui, oui, ma cœur est rempli d’amour seule pour toi! _ ” He started to laugh. “Not as sexy.”

“ _ Peut-être… _ ” she started. “ _ Tu n’es pas bon à la français _ .”

“Look at you, flexing your French on me. Where did that come from?” Nate asked.

“Hey, I get bored on the ship,” Zari said. She placed one of her hands over his, pushing it off the dough. “Let’s see if it’s ready.” When she poked it this time, the dough took only a few seconds to start springing up.

“I think it’s ready to rest,” he said, stepping away. Her back felt cold without him up against her, but she stepped to the side so he could wrap the dough in plastic wrap. 

“And how long will that take?”

“Half-hour, maybe?” Nate shrugged. “There’s a lot we could do in thirty minutes, but I don’t feel like getting flour off of…” He looked at the couch, then the door to his bedroom. “Everything.”

“How about here?” She cupped his face with one flour-covered hand, before leaning up to kiss him. 

Zari felt him smile before he moved his hands to her waist. She was vaguely aware how close she was to the counter, wrapping her other hand around his bicep. 

When he pulled away, she pouted. “What, afraid of a little flour?”

“I was going to lift you up on the counter, but I don’t think that you want flour all on your ass,” Nate told her. 

“Dude, there’s…” Zari took a look around the kitchen. “Okay, there’s not a lot of counter space.”

“Yeah,” he said, laughing. “Guess I’m cleaning flour off my bed sheets tomorrow.”

“We can always just throw a blanket on the couch,” she suggested with a shrug.

“Have I ever told you that you’re a fucking genius?” Nate asked.

Zari grinned. “Not recently.” She leaned back in to kiss him. Yeah, this was a little more fun than their usual date nights. 

**Author's Note:**

> if u wanna talk to me abt steelhacker or the inherent romance of pasta compared to other italian foods, shoot me an ask at lovevalley45.tumblr.com  
> if u liked this fic or want to correct me on my french grammar, leave a comment  
> and if u read to this point, leave a lovely little kudo to show how u cared enough to get that far


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